


Disarm

by lunabelieves



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), The Dark Knight (2008)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Grooming, Harley Quinn Needs a Hug, Harley is easily led, Self-Harm, the joker is manipulative
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:47:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27355225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunabelieves/pseuds/lunabelieves
Summary: A (small) look at Harleen Quinzel (AKA Harley Quinn) and (maybe) how she would have been portrayed in 'The Dark Knight'.
Relationships: The Joker/Harley Quinn
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so this was buzzing in my head earlier tonight and I felt I should give it a shot. A (small) look at Harleen Quinzel (AKA Harley Quinn) and (maybe) how she would have been portrayed in 'The Dark Knight'.

Three blood drops landed on the immaculate white tile of the bathroom and Harleen stared at them. They looked so dark on the tile, marring it so perfectly. Her own bit of ‘controlled chaos’ made perfect things more beautiful.

She sometimes asked herself what happened to the bright eyed girl who had come to Gotham with so many hopes and dreams. She made it through the days with a skip in her step; happy to attend classes, unlike so many of her fellow students who wished to stay in bed and lounge around.

And then, that one night she had decided to go to a café…

_Writing a thesis with a warm cup of coffee by your side was so much better than writing in a dingy, one bed room apartment, Harleen decided. Even if she was running a risk by going out so late. Gotham was famous for its incredible college, but almost as famous were its criminals. And with the clown known only as The Joker on the streets…_

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_The Joker was what her thesis was based on. The current thorn in the side of the police and the masked vigilante known as the Batman, he had lured Gotham into a state of panic, it seemed.  
She had done as much research as she could, watched the news every night for some sign of her ‘specimen’. She could only imagine her professor’s face when she turned in the paper. Just the thought excited her._

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_Her mother had always accused her of walking around in a haze, never noticing her surroundings, for she was snatched from the street and dragged into a near by alley by a thug much larger than herself. And the man didn’t look interested in chatting._

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_“Hand over the bag,” He demanded. “And maybe I won’t have to hurt you.”_

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_Back against the brick wall, all she could do was gape as the thug removed a gun from his leather jacket and placed it against her temple. Harleen closed her eyes and stupidly clung to the bag. Her laptop was in there as well as her wallet, the laptop currently more important. She’d rather die than have to start her paper over again, have all that research be for nothing._

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_“I said, hand it over-!”_

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_He stopped speaking and there was no more pressure on her head, so she cracked an eye open. The thug was no longer standing, but crumpled in a heap of trash, obviously very dead. Before her stood a man-was it a man?- his back turned to her._

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_“Wow!” She squeaked, her thick Brooklyn accent showing. “Crime really doesn’t pay, huh? Thanks for saving my-”_

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_She stopped when the man turned to her, the alley lit just enough to see bit of purple and green, smeared make up and a twisted smile.  
The Joker stood before her, grinning.  
For a moment, all she could do was think about all the notes and work hidden inside her bag, and yet here he was, standing right before her._

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_“Tie a bell around that pretty neck,” He sneered. “You’ll make for easier pray.”_

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_Harley tried to speak, but a sharp blade appeared between them, as if by magic and he placed it against her lips. All of her words, everything she had planned to say seemed to evaporate from her brain just by staring into his face, his eyes.  
Just as quickly as he had whipped the blade out, it was gone and so was he, leaving her alone in the dark alley._

She couldn’t understand it, why he had left her alive. He had killed so many, including the thug that had tried to take her life. Why spare her? What made her stand out among the rest?  
For days since the attack, the questions plagued her mind. She couldn’t think, couldn’t eat couldn’t sleep without the assault of questions and the image of his wild eyes burning into her own blue ones.  
She hadn’t realized that she had snapped until she stared at the three blood drops on her bathroom tile, then back at the line of blood along the inside of her leg. She was trying to control something in a chaotic city ‘ruled’ by a grinning mad man who seemed to adore chaos in all its forms.

She hadn’t realized she wasn’t alone until he was standing in the bathroom doorway. Or how vulnerable she must have looked in her tank top and underwear, the line on her leg standing out like a red rose amongst white ones.

“How’d you get in?” She demanded.

“The door was unlocked.” He said simply. “Shouldn’t do that in this city. Anyone could get in.”

“What do you want?”

“I’ve been watching you, Harleen.” He seemed to test the sound of her name on his lips. “Harleen Quinzel. That name won’t do of course, but I bet you’ll come up with something.”

“W-what?” She squeaked.  
“I take it by the cut on your leg that you’re looking for a way to handle what happened that night you were almost murdered twice. You have the potential, if you grab it.” Slowly, he moved out of the doorway but his head remained, staring at her.  
“I rather like Harley myself. Has a sort of…Ring to it.”

She blinked when she heard the sound of the door shut. He thought she had potential…Something warm swelled inside her heart, filling the hole that seemed to have grown there when she was grabbed into the alley. She would follow him, oh yes. To the ends of the Earth and back, it that was what he wished. Harley…She rather liked the name herself. It reminded her of something, though she couldn’t figure out what.


	2. Chapter Two

Part of her felt like she shouldn’t have been there, that she should be seeking help for what one could only call her love, her obsession. But he had called to her, practically laid out the welcome mat for her. It almost made her feel special, like a Hollywood starlet invited to get all dolled up and come to the big party. And dolled up she was.

“Ah, the guest of honor.” He cooed and Harley willed herself not to blush as he stepped by her and placed an arm around her shoulders. “May I introduce-” He raised his hand in a flourish, then looked at her and whispered, “Hope you picked something good.”

“Harley Quinn.” She finished, proud that she had taken his suggestion, since he had liked it so much.  
The group of clown masked thugs stared silently, as if they didn’t know how to react to her exactly. For a moment, she wondered if the cap and bells were a bit too clownish, a bit too silly. Or if the pig tails she had twisted into her hair made her look too childish. What did you expect, a round of applause? Bet they think I’m here for the take, she mused. As if she were only in it for the money. Money was nothing next to being by The Joker’s side, after pining for so long without realizing what was wrong. For Harley, just standing in his presence was enough to satisfy her for a lifetime.

“He’s finally flipped.” Some one whispered (She couldn’t tell who in the sea of masks, couldn’t tell one from another).

“What,” The excitement of introducing her leave his eyes fast and they narrow. “Was that?”

“What I’m saying is,” One of the masked men stepped forward an inch or two. “She’s not a hostage? For you to chop up? What good is she then?”

“What good is she?” He threw his head back and laughed. For a moment, she wondered if that was all she was meant to be just that, a hostage or something for him to torture. She wondered if she had been deluding herself all along and that her love has been misplaced.

He kept laughing and moved from her side to stand in front of the thug. “What GOOD is she?”

“Yeah. She’s a silly little girl playin’ dress up. She’s gonna screw up and then-”

He didn’t finish. There’s a flash of silver in The Joker’s hand, like solid mercury, and he viscously stabbed the thug a thousand times it seemed. Then he moved back to her side, whipping the knife back into his pocket.

“Does anyone else object to Ms. Quinn?” He demanded. Silence filled the room, as if no one dared make even the tiniest sound.

“Good.”


	3. Chapter Three

She was surprised at how gently he smeared the white greasepaint onto her cheek. It may just have been seeing him kill the thug, but Harley had never suspected The Joker to be a man of soft gestures or movements. Not when the man thrived in chaos.

“I feel I should apologize for my deceased…Comrade’s words. No doubt he put you in a state of unease.”

Shaken from her thoughts, she realized he meant what the thug had said about her being of no use unless she was a hostage or simply there as one of The Joker’s sick playthings. “Oh…Oh no. He didn’t bother me-”

You came of your own free will. You are not a hostage.” He spoke as if he were trying to make her understand, something she didn’t see as necessary. But then, her sole focus currently was the gentle feeling on her face as he smeared the paint all across her face. “And they understand the consequences that they will…Face if they lay even a hand on you.”

“That’s not nessa-”

“It is. These men will paw all over you, given free reign. You will be useless to me if you are afraid.” His voice was a bit harsher this time, as if to say that she had no say in the matter.  
He scooped some black onto his fingers and circled around her eyes, as if he were making a raccoon-like mask. She sat still, stiller than she had ever been. Part of her worried that if one wrong move made him mess up this meticulous process, she would go the same way the thug had.

Finally, he snatched up a silvery tube of lipstick and painted her lips with care before he stepped back to look at his finished work.

“Take a look.” He ordered and lifted a sliver of glass for her to peer into. Her reflection made her smile.


End file.
